


Some nights are better than others

by Horoprins55



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:44:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14820329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horoprins55/pseuds/Horoprins55
Summary: Victor always had Makka to cheer him up when things got tough, now that he doesn´t, finding someone new, seems impossible.





	Some nights are better than others

**Author's Note:**

> So first of all, hi ;3 I finally worked the courage to post something, and I start with this... just hate me okay. I want to become better at English, so maybe I´ll start posting more, but for now... this ;p

Victor couldn´t remember the last time someone held him when his emotions got the better of him… maybe Yakov, once or twice… but it had been nothing like this. Yakov wasn´t a man who sat down and made you “talk” about it, he just wanted you to do your best, and then vent somewhere else. The few times young Victor had come to Yakov, it had been serious… something the soon-to-be-living-legend couldn´t do on his own, and even then, his coach had only listened with half a year because Georgi messed up a jump or texted with someone on the rink. Ha had looked at Victor, giving an understanding look (as if he knew that the hell Victor was talking about), and then screamed his lungs out so Georgi had jumped in placed and looked directly at his coach, blushing in embarrassment and started his routine again. “I´m really sorry to hear that Vitya” he had said, looked at Victor a little too long for comfort and then ruffled his silvery hair “It´ll get easier when you grow up”  
Victor took those words by heart, lived by them and walked through all of his personal defeats with his head up high, making sure that the mask never cracked.  
When Yakov came with a little Cafe Au Lait colored poodle one day, and dropped it at Victors feet, he didn´t say anything, he just looked at Victor and smiled, kinda. It was more of a reflex by the upper lip, but Victor took it was a smile, Yakovs smiles were few and far between.  
  
Some nights were better than others.  
  
Makkachin was the savior of fifteen-year-old Victor Nikiforov. He was close to competing in the senior division and even though he had dominated his peers, he had also heard stories about the senior division but had no one to confirm it with.  
So he just pressed on despite his fears, did as Yakov had told him… until he came home and cried big fat tears into his puppy-dog, who just let him until his eyes were dry.  
“Thanks, girl” he sniffed when he returned from his dive into a sea of fur, (how could such a small creature have SO much fur?) “you always know what I need”  
Makkachin puffed her head into her owner´s arm a couple of seconds later, and Victor excused himself, and Makkachin, and made both of them dinner.  
One morning Victor had an epiphany, that turned into a catastrophe, “but what about Makka!?”, he ran after Yakow, almost stepping in his heels “I can’t leave Russia”  
Yakov stopped, and Victor was _just_ fast enough not to walk into him. “As I told you, I already made appointments with the best shelters in town, the dog will be in safe hands”  
_But not MY hands_ Victor thought to himself while he sighed… there was no auguring with Yakov, not this time, not ever.  
“She´s still such a little puppy… wouldn´t it be wrong of me to leave her?” Victor still tried.  
“Wouldn´t it be wrong to throw your career away for a dog? Vitya you are about to enter the senior division.” Yakov started “You can´t just drop everything you know, because you “love” something else” … “I only made you keep that dog, if you promised me, that skating would ALWAYS be your top priority” … “so tomorrow you leave it at the shelter and get it when you return to Russia again, understand!”  
  
Victor flopped all his jumps that day, and when he left the rink early, (Yakov seeing no need to waste time on Victor when he kept messing up) Victor slumped himself home, ignored Makka and went to his room and cried.  
The silence was disturbed almost instantly. A little whine came from the other side of the door, and then the sounds of scratching paws. Makka was on the other side of the door, and she seemed keen on getting in.  
Damn, Victor had not even had her for two full months and his dog was already son in tune with his emotions, that the thought alone painted a smile on his face. He sighed and stayed only for half a minute more before he opened the door and was attacked by a furry bundle of joy that licked all of his tears away and promptly fell asleep in the dark, warmed by her owner´s embrace and lulled by his voice, as Victor sang himself to sleep.  
  
Makka jumped around the morning after, getting herself tangled up in her leach and only stopping when Victor found his clicker and she heard the sound and tasted a treat on her tongue.  
“Good girl”, Victor cooed and scratched her behind the years “now, you behave while I´m away” he lifted his finger, trying his best to look serious…  
It only lasted until Makka licked his finger, and Victor smiled like he had done the night before, and decided, that this was okay… that it would always be okay…  
  
\---  
  
Victor wasn´t home when it happened, he was at an Ice-show in Paris when his phone rang. Victor was skating stupid figure-eights with little kids that barely knew how to skate when Yuri Plisetsky called me. He helped a fucking midget of a child off the ice when his phone buzzed in his back in the locker. He gave a well-practiced smile to the press, singing his praises of the new generation of French figure skaters (like France suddenly because amazing at skating) while Yurio left another voicemail, BEGGING Victor to pick up his goddamn phone already…  
He did, one hour and fifteen voicemail messages later.  
  
When Victor FINALLY called Yurio back, Yurio didn´t pick up, and Victor´s brain decided to venture to the darkest place of his mind… he really wasn´t mad at anybody… not the kids who skated like shit, not the reporters who talked his ears off, and not at Yurio who really knew how to fuck with one's mind by not picking up when someone called him…  
No… Victor was really just mad at himself…  
  
When he got into his seat two hours later, his mind was racing, but it was all a jumbled mess. Yurio´s voicemails were the same, or some variation of ‘just get the fuck home now Victor, this is serious…’ and despite his ‘loud’ nature, the panic was clear-cut…  
And it all became clearest when he heard the first message  
  
_"Victor, please call me back, Yuuri is out of it. I can´t get him to relax…I´m doing what I can right now, but he needs you… fuck this.. **I** need you right now Victor… your fucking dog needs you righ!… s.. sorry, that wasn´t nice... just... please call me when you hear this…"_  
  
  
The softness in Yurio´s voice had Victor tearing up, and now again thinking about it. But Russia was still three hours away and Aeroflot was delayed as usual, and right now he just sat there crying like when he was fifteen… but he couldn’t just hug Makka and make her lick his tears away, BECAUSE MAKKA WAS DYING, AND THERE WAS NOTHING HE COULD DO ABOUT IT!  
  
When he turned flight-mode off, there was a single message in his inbox…  
  
 **She died  
  
** “Yuuri” he then said, not really aware if it was him, or anybody around him that had stopped moving, because his whole world compacted on itself, down to one word…  
He needed to call Yuuri just as much for him, but also for himself… he wanted something safe right now, no he NEEDED it, and speed-dialed his fiancée…  
  
The phone rang a few times before someone picked up…  
“Yuuri!” Victor tried to keep his emotions in check but failing at it miserably.  
But what really broke the dam, was the sound on the other end… or rather, lack thereof…  
  
Victor had never run so fast in his life.   
  
Yuuri was quiet and Victor sat on the other side of the door Yuuri had barricaded himself behind. Victor had asked to come in, but it gave him no answer.  
The young man leaned all of his weight on the door, fighting Victor who, despite being gentle, was still pushing to get in.  
It only lasted a moment and Victor took the chance, and opened the door, only to find Yuuri in a corner, shivering and crawling away from Victor.  
The silver-haired man steeled himself and let out a barely audible sigh “Yuuri love, I´m really sorry that…”  
He stopped dead in his tracks, Yuuri making an inhuman sound before he bawled his eyes out until he crashed on his own anxiety attack, lunging himself into Victor´s arms and wheezed as his breathing began to even. Sometime after, Victor didn´t really know how long he had been sitting there, Yuuri was fast asleep in his lap, eyes still wrinkled after his crying, brows still tense…  
Victor just looked until he tasted something salty on his lips… then it occurred to him, that he had been crying with Yuuri…  
  
And he didn´t stop, fat ugly tears ran down his face, and even though he tried to keep himself quiet, everything came out all at once, and he soon felt embarrassed by the echoing sounds of wailing that surrounded him. But when he felt like all of the air had left his lungs… someone hugged him. Trembling arms, shaky breaths and red eyes, Victor snapped out of it and saw Yuuri, he barely looked like himself, and yet it was the most Yuuri victor had seen him since he came home.  
“Its okay Victor,” he said like it was a secret “I´m here, okay?”  
Victor was about to say something, but Yuuri just hugged him tighter… “I need this,” he said… but it wasn´t meant for himself… and Victor felt that down in his core and let his tears let loose again…  
  
… yeah… some nights were better than other ****  



End file.
